Bottom Of A Bottle
by cassgrl087
Summary: Rated for lots of cussing. Centered around Sean after or during "Our House". Songfic to Bottom Of A Bottle by Smile Empty Soul. Not a one-shot! Part One of the Songfic up now, so REVIEW!


A/N: This is a story I originally started just as the typical one-shot songfic. But…I started writing and I couldn't stop. So it's gonna be in two parts, but the story will probably continue after the songfic is over. It's a WIP and it's also gonna be a Sean/Emma. So…review Part One and Part Two will be up ASAP.

Thanx!

**Been scared and lonely**

**Asked myself is something wrong with you**

_"I don't need you. I could live here."_ Sean's words from days ago echoed in his head. What was he thinking? He could live _here_? He didn't _need_ Tracker? _Please_. Sean was nothing but a failure. He failed school, he failed his first party, he failed at relationships; with his parents…with his teachers…with his girlfriends. On the surface, everything was okay with Ellie. However he couldn't help it when Emma's face crept into his mind night after night. How she kept worrying about him…trying to set him straight…now his life was just one big mishap after another. And then there's Jay. Part of Sean wanted to just be like, Fuck him. Fuck Jay and his stupid ass lip ring and his retarded I-don't-care-about-anyone-but-myself attitude. Jay was nothing before Sean joined up with him. He was just some loser with some junk car and a bad attitude. He had two girl groupies who followed him around like the paparazzi, only way more annoying. Every time one of the giggled Sean felt like dropping them where they stood. He didn't, though. He didn't because he was intimidated. He wanted to belong. To belong to somewhere other than Emma's house with her stuck up morals and her bitchy attitude. Night after night he dreamed of telling Emma how he felt. Telling her about how fucked up his life was now and how sorry she should be for screwing everything up.

_Like your life is just so horrible. Simpson has cancer. You got into a fight. Go cry about how horrible your life is, Emma Nelson, because mine is so much more fucking worse. You could do whatever you want, and you could get help from someone. Anyone. My friends could leave me at the drop of a hat. Like if I had the cops crash another party or if I didn't give them any more booze or stole anything else. They are my family and this is my fucking **life**. Who do I have? I don't have anyone, Emma, you were all I had and I blew it. It's too fucking late and I'm tired of this shit_.

 He would stop once he realized that it was all his fault and she had nothing to do with it.

**My girlfriend told me**

**I need some time alone to deal with issues**

It was a few days ago when Ellie told Sean she couldn't deal. She couldn't take his constant partying and his lame friends. _My Dad is gone_. She said. _My mom's a drunk. Do you think I can deal? Can I ignore her rampages and come over here to party with you? I've tried to help you. I've tried to help you millions of times and now I can't take it, Sean, I can't take it. I love you. And I can't go through this alone, but I'm in therapy now and I can't take this constant stress. It's not as if you ever stick up for me in front of your friends anyway. I have enough problems with trying to get my mom the help she needs so I can't spend every night at your house trying to get you to study so you can keep your welfare. Sean, parties aren't going to last forever and your friends are going to be in jail before you know it. You can't help me. I have to help myself…and there's nothing anyone can do about that. I'm sorry, Sean…but we have to break up._

**But something makes me carry on**

**It's typical to understand what I always want to find**

            Soon Sean became this...steel being that no one could get to. If he failed a test…_who cares?_ Didn't make a deadline? _Screw it_. He became numb to Ellie's sympathetic glances in the hall and Emma's angry rampages about stolen VCR's or DVD players. He didn't care about those. One day his shop teacher approached him.

            _Sean, I'm worried about you_. He said to deaf ears. _You aren't completing your assignments. The ones you do finish are in horrible condition. If I wanted to put your last project in my car, it would run for about ten seconds. _He pulled a file out from his desk. _The end of term is coming and you could lose your welfare. I thought you could do this, Sean. _He cast a worried look in Sean's direction. _You're proving me wrong. Pull yourself together or you might be making a quick journey back to Wasaga Beach._

Sean shrugged the words off. Big fucking deal. He didn't ever think about the future, except for when Tracker moved out. He became numb to those desperate feelings he had as his teacher's words sunk in. He hated feeling that way; desperate, needy. He wanted it all to end and to become someone that everyone in his gang liked and wanted. He was part of something now and he wasn't going to screw it up. He slowly become something Emma would call a "substance abuser". But to him…he was drowning his problems and having a good time.

**I do it for the drugs**

**I do it just to feel a high**

**I do it for the love **

**That I get from the bottom of a bottle**

            His parties were the talk of the town. The underground town, that is. First the Montreal Crew, then the Ontario…everyone was showing up. And with reason, the house was totally hooked up now with all the _discounts_ they were getting. Soon, to get into one of the parties, you'd have to have a six pack or a good CD. People started bringing kegs and later, drugs. Sean was no stranger to drugs, or dealers, for that fact, and the best part was that Sean didn't even have to pay. To get to a kickin' party, dealers would give the hosts anything. _Anything_ in hopes of a big sale. Yeah, one would think that after the scare with Amy people would be a little tamer. But Sean couldn't handle all the stress and he was ready to let loose. And everyone did what Sean did. It was a sick game of follow the leader. _Sean did three pills, Jay, could you do four?_ Or _Jay had 12 cans of beer, Sean, can you make 14?_ Sean didn't do it because he wanted to be a competitor; he did it so he could escape. He'd do whatever someone handed him…X, crystal meth, coke. Those were big party specials. Just to get through the day he'd need a bottle of whatever hard liquor was around. Jay had already cleaned out his parents' liquor cabinet. Sean was sinking lower and lower with every pill he downed and every sip he took.

! R! E! V! I! E! W! 


End file.
